


Can’t You Stay a Little Longer?

by PunkTsuki



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Fluff, Love at First Sight, M/M, Tumblr Prompt, otayuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 04:41:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13228281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunkTsuki/pseuds/PunkTsuki
Summary: “Otabek Altin, are you asking me to jump a train and run away with a man I barely even know?” Yuri smirked.“If I am, would you?” Otabek asked.





	Can’t You Stay a Little Longer?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted as a tumblr prompt @ PunkTsuki
> 
> The prompt was: "Can't you stay a little longer?"
> 
> Enjoy some actual cheese!

Two days, eight hours and approximately 10 minutes is the amount of time Yuri Plisetsky has known Otabek Altin. But now, as he got up from their shared table to collect his luggage from the racks in the next carriage, something felt wrong. He felt as though there were a physical pull at his heart. He turned to look back over his shoulder, to look back at Otabek’s face. For the first time in their _admittedly_ short time together, Yuri recognised a sadness shimmering in his dark eyes; one that seemed to reflect the pulling at his own chest. It was those eyes, those dark pools that Yuri wanted to explore and get lost in. They were pulling him back.

“Can’t you stay a little longer?” Otabek’s voice was soft, but hopeful, and fucking gorgeous in his Kazakh accent.

Yuri had caught the train from Almaty, Kazakhstan, preparing for the two day trip to Saratov where he was going to visit his Grandfather. He had already visited his Mother and her boyfriend in Almaty and he was doing “the rounds” for the holidays. The train trip, he thought, was going to be hell. But it’s what he could afford on shorter notice; multiple flights tended to add up in price despite their convenience.

“I can’t go all the way to Moscow, Otabek. My ticket says Saratov,” Yuri furrowed his sculpted blonde brows.

“Fuck. Stay?” That sparkle in his eyes changed from sadness to something else. Mischief? Yuri wanted more than anything to stay and to find out exactly what every minor facial expression meant when it crossed this strange boy’s face.

“Otabek Altin, are you asking me to jump a train and run away with a man I barely even know?” Yuri smirked.

“If I am, would you?” Otabek asked. Yuri paused for a moment.

“No,” he answered with a small, breathy laugh. “You’re crazy.”

“I won’t go to Moscow, then. I’ll get off at Saratov with you.” Otabek stood up, grabbing his duffle bag from the rack above his head. Despite travelling a further distance, Otabek had packed much lighter than yuri had.

“And what is there for you to do in Saratov, _Mr. Altin_? If that is your real name?” Yuri raised an eyebrow now, trying to resist the urge to roll his eyes.

“Well...There’s you” It was Otabek’s turn to smirk now. Yuri gasped, feigning a shocked reaction.

Was this really happening? Had he met a random stranger on a train and was he actually about to let this guy get off the train with him, knowing the other man’s less-than-innocent intentions?

“That’s highly presumptuous, don’t you think?” Yuri opened the doors to the carriage and attempted to lift his suitcase up from underneath another passenger's. He hated this system, he really did.

 

“You forget Plisetsky, that you have just sat with me for two days now, sharing your life and escapades...perhaps out of sheer boredom and nothing else to do but nonetheless. I know things about you, remember?”

 

Yuri huffed in response. This had to be crazy. _He_ had to be crazy for even considering it.

 

The train came to a haltering stop, assisting Yuri in yanking his case free. He headed towards the opening doors of the vehicle, lugging his case behind him.

 

“Here uh, let me help,” Otabek rushed out, grabbing Yuri’s bag and hoisting it up off the ground. He gestured for Yuri to exit the train. Wary-eyed, Yuri did, stepping down a few steps and planting his feet on the Saratov station platform.

 

Otabek stepped out onto the platform too.

 

“You’re not serious?” Yuri prodded, taking his bag without a single ‘thank you.’

 

“Uh. I am, yeah. But…” Otabek paused, looking cautiously back towards the door he had stepped out off. “Look. I’m going to kiss you okay? And I am going to give you my number and then I am going to get back on that train to Moscow. It’s up to you what you do after that. Sound fair?” Otabek was stepping closer now.

 

“I uh-” Yuri’s cheeks were burning up. He wasn’t sure how to respond but before he knew it, his face was engulfed in hands that were much larger than his own and his lips were brought up to a height, meeting Otabek’s mouth in a crushing, seemingly desperate. Otabek’s tongue ran across Yuri’s bottom lip. Yuri parted his mouth, allowing his stranger in. Their tongues met, their cheeks brushed, their lips slid into sync and then...it was over.

Otabek’s face had turned an adorable shade of pink under that beautiful tan. Yuri thought it was possibly the sweetest thing he had ever seen.

 

“Give me your phone, real quick?” Otabek asked, hurriedly after a second of Yuri’s silent bewilderment. Yuri obeyed.

 

Just as Otabek had said, he entered and saved his number in Yuri’s phone, handed it back and climbed back up onto the train with his own bag. He turned to face Yuri as he hung out the door.

 

“It’s up to you, Yuri. But I really hope to hear from you soon,” He gave a slight smile before he turned to enter the carriage once more. The train began to roll forward minutes later. Otabek was gone, leaving Yuri feeling windswept on the now empty platform.

 

***

Otabek Altin was sitting at a bar, drink in hand, foot tapping to the beat of the song filtering through the busy room. It had been a week since he had arrived in Moscow, searching for a permanent apartment. It wasn’t easy.

 

He was taking a sip of his beer when he felt the vibration of his phone in his leather jacket pocket. The screen notified him that it was an unknown number. Furrowing his dark brows, he answered.

 

“Otabek?” It was a young man’s voice. His voice. He hadn’t heard it in a week but he _knew_.

 

“It’s Yuri. Uh...Yuri Plisetsky,” Yuri mumbled that last bit, Otabek wanted to wipe that hesitation away. He had been waiting for this.

 

“Sure know how to keep me waitin’, Plisetsky,”

 

“Oh. Shit, I’m sorry. I really did have to visit my Grandpa I-” He sounded a little panicked.

 

“Yuri, Yuri it’s fine. It’s good, I’m so glad you decided to call,” Otabek couldn’t help the smile spreading across his face. “What brings you to this here phone call, my little Russian?” He chuckled.

 

“Are you still in Moscow?” Ah, nothing like cutting straight to the chase.

 

“Yeah, why?” Otabek questioned.

 

“Well…” Yuri paused, taking a shaky breath. “I am too.”

  
  
  
  



End file.
